


Bravery

by reddiegays



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Ben just adores Bev, Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heart-to-Heart, Love Confessions, M/M, Mike likes Bill's endings, Richie and Eddie are fucking heart eyes, Stan Uris loves his wife, The Derry Townhouse (IT), everyone is soft for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22458280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddiegays/pseuds/reddiegays
Summary: The night before they face the killer clown, The Losers gather around for one final drink and share their desires for a future they hope they’ll see.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh/Ben Hanscom, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Bill Denbrough, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	Bravery

**Author's Note:**

> fucking with the timeline, catch me not giving a shit :D

The Losers were gathered around a group of tables in the bar of the townhouse they were staying in, having just returned from collecting their tokens. Most of them were covered in some sort of disgusting substance or trying to block out the trauma they’d just been through by smoking or knocking back drinks in an attempt to forget. Four of them had returned so far, Ben having just barrelled into the room, clutching his yearbook page; he joined Beverly, Richie and Mike at the table. A short while later, Bill and Eddie joined them, equally filthy and traumatised; they gratefully accepted drinks from the other Losers. They weren’t sure how long they’d spent drowning their sorrows in silence; the shower cap being slammed on the table in front of them made every single one of them jump.

“All this fuss for something so dumb,” Stan said, visibly shaking. He collapsed onto the chair next to Richie, reaching for the bottle of scotch. His face was streaked with dirt, the old scars from Pennywise’s attack from childhood were more pronounced, as if it had happened again. Beverly couldn’t help but gasp. Stan just held up a hand, knocking back the glass of scotch, “I don’t want to know. If I know...I’m going to leave.”

Richie grabbed a napkin and dabbed it in the untouched glass of water on the table. He leaned over and began to clean Stan’s face, shaking his head, “I almost left today, man.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You know, childhood bully to murder,” Richie said with a smirk, discarding the napkin when he was finished tending to Stan, “that, and you assholes are lost without me.”

Some of the Losers chuckled politely but Stan wasn’t fooled; he saw the way Richie’s eyes settled on Eddie. It was a look that made him homesick. He was pleased to see every single one of his old friends, his _family_ , but Patty was the love of his life and it was the first time they’d been separated since before they were married. Stan buried his face in his hands, trying not to cry.

“I want to go home,” he mumbled to no one in particular, stroking his wedding fondly. He could feel tears welling up behind his eyes, “I want to hold my wife. I want to kill this clown, go home and just be with Patty. Maybe become an ornithologist,” he added as an afterthought. If he survived Pennywise, fuck it. Why not? Richie, however, just looked confused.

“What the fuck do you want to look in people’s eyes for, man?”

Stan laughed for the first time since leaving the Jade. Richie knew full fucking well what an ornithologist is and Stan _knew_ he knew; it was the reason he loved Richie, always knew how to cheer him up.

“If I make it, I want to leave Derry,” everyone turned to look at Mike. He was looking solemnly at his hands, “go to Florida. Always wanted to go there.”

Bill clapped him on the shoulder supportively, his hand dropping to Mike’s to give him a reassuring squeeze. They didn’t know how this had turned into a thing but here they were, sharing their wishes and dreams, hoping they’d be around to fulfil them. Ben cleared his throat, reaching for the bottle of rum.

“I want to love someone like they deserve to be loved,” he spoke softly, making no secret that he was talking about Beverly. They made eye contact and Ben smiled, adding, “and be loved that way in return.”

Beverly reached out across the table and took Ben’s hand, bringing it to her lips; she pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles and refused to let go. Eddie briefly glanced at Richie, telling himself it’s to see if he’s crying so he can make fun of him later. He was watching Ben somewhat longingly, as if he was wishing for the same thing. Eddie quickly looked away, throwing back the foul tasting alcohol.

“I want to write a good ending...” Bill said thoughtfully. He frowned when the others raised their glasses to jokingly drink to that. Everyone besides Mike.

“I’ve always liked your endings, Bill,” he said without hesitation, quickly noticing that everyone was staring at him; he blushed, folding his arms defiantly, “well, I have.”

Bill looked an amusing mix of both flattered and embarrassed. He smiled awkwardly, wishing his face would stop burning, “um, th-thanks, Mike.”

“Looks like Ben’s not the only one getting some tonight,” Richie murmured to Eddie, winking suggestively. Eddie wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up or at least roll his eyes in disgust at devaluing such an emotional moment. But instead, he nodded slowly, unable to look away from Richie’s lips for some reason. Thankfully, he was distracted by Bev.

“Well, if I survive, I’m going to leave Tom for sure. Go solo, start my own company,” she smiled, looking around the room at her friends, her family, the only people she’d ever loved. The Losers were so proud of her, they brought their glasses together and toasted Bev; she chuckled, “maybe a certain celebrity who dresses like shit will be my first client?”

Richie grinned, clinking his glass with hers, “I’ll drink to that...” there was a moment’s silence as they waited for either Eddie or Richie to continue. Eventually, Richie drained his glass and folded his arms, “well, you all know what I want. To get the fuck out of Derry,” the others hummed their agreement. Richie wasn’t finished, but he hesitated; it was unusual to see Richie looking so nervous. He was wringing his hands, taking a deep breath as he chose his words carefully, “I love you guys more than anything. I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you. And, one day, I want to be brave enough to...to...”

Stan leaned over, patting Richie’s knee supportively, “it’s okay, man. It’s going to be okay, Richie.”

The comedian nodded, pouring himself another drink. He knew the Losers would accept him and fans would always be there if they were true fans but being honest with himself and everyone he cared about was more difficult than he first thought. It was going to take time. He felt Eddie move closer to him and the next thing he knew, they were holding hands. Richie caught his eye and they exchanged a small smile, one of understanding and acceptance.

Last but never least, Eddie’s turn. He was quiet, deep in thought and he took a slow drink. When he finally spoke, it was with a fierce determination, “I want...I want to live,” he chuckled lightly at the simplicity of his words, knowing it was going to be easier said than done. He squeezed Richie’s hand and swallowed, “I want to get a divorce. I want to accept who I am. I want to be brave. I just want to fucking _live_ , guys.”

The Losers nodded sombrely, clinking their glasses together yet again. They contemplated their words for several moments. Richie pulled Eddie into a long overdue hug, Stan left the room to call his wife, Bill and Mike rested their foreheads together and Bev stood up to approach Ben, taking his hand. They were the first to leave, wishing the others a goodnight. Stan went to his room next, followed by Bill and Mike although the former was not seen climbing the stairs to his room. Richie and Eddie ascended the stairs together, stopping outside Eddie’s room. The comedian had been about to bid him goodnight, maybe kiss him on the cheek and cheekily offer to tuck him in, when Eddie reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Do you want to come in?”

Richie’s brain short-circuited, any kind of intelligent response having fucked off out of his brain. He blinked, looking past Eddie into his room, “what, to bone?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Eddie rolled his eyes at the juvenile term. He stepped in Richie’s space, playing with his jacket, “maybe we can both be brave.”

Richie swallowed nervously, deciding to fall back on his defence mechanism: a good old joke, “okay, well, um...it’s been a hot minute since I had sex, you might have to remind me what goes where.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Eddie smiled, stepping aside to let Richie in before closing the door behind him. 

Maybe everything was going to be okay.


End file.
